


Accomplice | Discontinued

by bang-the-smoke (708_things)



Category: I Don't Know How But They Found Me (Band)
Genre: Angst, Insanity, M/M, Morality, Murder, Partners in Crime, dark au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:41:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21598591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/708_things/pseuds/bang-the-smoke
Summary: Ryan becomes Dallon's accomplice when he helps his friend 'take care' of a body. Soon, Ryan is becoming more and more involved with his crimes.
Relationships: Ryan Seaman/Dallon Weekes
Kudos: 14





	1. The Accident

**Author's Note:**

> old fic, discontinued, cross-posted on wattpad.

His ringtone was blaring. Ryan groaned, laying there for a moment, before getting up lazily. The ringtone stopped, as Ryan stretched, and then immediately blared again. He checked the time on his phone before picking up the call, his eyes narrowing at the fact that it was literally four AM.

"Hello?"

There was loud sobbing coming from the other line, gasps of breath interrupting every once in a while. "Ryan, I need you," the voice whimpered.

Ryan flinched, surprised by his shaky voice. It was almost unbelievable that Dallon was the one calling. For one thing, Ryan had never seen nor heard him cry before, and the knot in his stomach told him it was an unwelcome surprise. The sound of him crying hurt him, because Dallon _never_ cried. He had seen him in low moments, but it didn't compare to this.

Immediately, Ryan felt the need to comfort his friend, disregarding his exhaustion. "What is it, Dallon?" he asked softly, trying to be gentle. But he couldn't lie to himself; this exchange made him confused, shocked, and hurt. And all just because Dallon was hurt.

"Please, I just--" Dallon cut himself off, his breathing quickening, and it was too fast.

"Hey, calm down," Ryan whispered gently. "Just breathe with me, in and out, in and out."

Soon, Dallon calmed down. His breathing was back to a regular rate, but it was obvious that he was still feeling emotional. "I need your help," Dallon said, sniffing loudly.

"Okay," Ryan said, nodding to himself. "With what?"

"I need you to come over right now," Dallon rushed out, showing that it was urgent. "Please, I can't be alone. Not now."

Ryan was already getting up and getting ready. "You won't be. I'll be over in less than twenty minutes. Okay, Dal?"

"Yeah," Dallon exhaled, relieved. "Thank you so much, Ryan."

"No problem. I'll see you soon." And then he hung up the phone, grabbing his car keys from the counter and racing out of his house. Dallon was probably the only person who could get away with waking him up absurdly early in the morning. Even if he wasn't, how could he have ignored Dallon's obvious distress?

He truly had no idea what he was getting into.

\---

Dallon answered the door, and the first thing Ryan noticed was that any evidence of him crying had vanished. That was probably a good thing, because he didn't know how he would react if he actually saw him cry with his two eyes.

Dallon quickly brought him into his house, practically dragging him into his living room. "What's wrong, Dal?" Ryan asked, because he really wasn't sure. He didn't disclose anything in that call about why he was so upset. That hadn't been important to Ryan while in the moment, but now he was curious.

He didn't know what he was expecting. As they entered the room, Ryan was suddenly hit by a rancid smell, and his mouth gaped as he looked at the floor.

On the floor, there was a body. An actual human who was _dead_ , based on the blood pooling around them. "What is this?" Ryan choked out, barely believing his eyes. Did Dallon do this?

"It was an accident, you have to believe me!" Dallon cried out, turning Ryan around to look at him. He placed his hands on his shoulders, staring him down intensely. "Do you believe me?"

There was a lump in Ryan's throat. He couldn't stop thinking about the body, about the implications. Dallon had _killed_ someone, accident or not. He wanted to believe the best of him, but it was hard to.

Yet, that didn't stop him from nodding. "If you say it was an accident, then it was," Ryan said, but his voice cracked at the end of his answer. He wasn't sure of anything.

Dallon smiled, bringing him into a hug. He rested his head on Ryan's shoulder. "I need help," he said quietly. "You're the only person I can trust."

Ryan turned his head to look at the body. He could tell the body belonged to a male, even from afar. He shuddered as he saw the blood again, turning back to look at his friend. It seemed like Dallon had already washed all the blood off of himself.   
"Where's the weapon?" Ryan questioned weakly.

Dallon gestured towards the coffee table. "I've been too frantic to deal with it," he explained.

"It's okay." Ryan had watched enough crime shows to know what to do in this situation. He knew if they weren't careful, Dallon would be caught and arrested for murder. And, he realized, he would be arrested for being an accomplice.

Ryan's eyes trailed up and down Dallon's figure, deciding that it was worth the risk. He never wanted to see him like this again, never wanted to hear him cry or hear the slight tremors in his voice. He never wanted to be in this situation again.

"We need to get rid of the body first," Ryan decided. Dallon nodded, pulling away from the hug. He looked to Ryan as a guiding figure, so it was clear he would be the brain behind this.

They ended up throwing the body into a river, attaching a weight to his foot so he sank to the bottom. Afterwards, they returned back to Dallon's apartment and used hydrogen peroxide to dissolve the blood. Ryan cleaned the knife Dallon had used and dropped it into the fireplace's flames. There was no evidence left of his crime.

Dallon looked so relieved and troublefree. "Thank you so much," he said quietly, staring at the fireplace. He seemed distant, causing Ryan to frown.

He placed his hand on his shoulder. "Everything's fine, Dal. Accidents happen. It's behind you now."

Dallon nodded numbly. It was clear to Ryan that he was still processing everything, just like he himself was. "You should go back home and sleep," Dallon said.

Ryan didn't need more encouragement. He already knew he needed sleep desperately, and that he wanted it too. In his sleep, he could avoid this situation. "You're right. I'll see you later."

"Mm," Dallon muttered. "Love you." He still didn't look back.

Ryan paused. "Love you too, man."

It only occured to him then that Dallon now had the classification of murderer. Could he love a murderer? Could he even be friends with one?

These were questions he would rather answer with a clear head, so he left Dallon's apartment finally. There was only one thought left in his mind as he drove home.

Had the murder really been an accident?


	2. Recruitment

Life continued normally, but Ryan couldn't help but think back to what happened. His best friend was a murderer, but didn't seem concerned about the fact.

If Ryan didn't know any better, he would say he dreamt everything up. Dallon made no indication of even remembering what happened, and he didn't acknowledge it, either. But Ryan still vividly remembered everything, like the way the body looked, the victim's blank eyes, and the sound of Dallon crying. It had been real, even if Dallon didn't acknowledge it.

Weeks passed by without incident, and Ryan almost let himself forget about it. What was in the past was in the past. However, he couldn't forget about it when Dallon suddenly asked something, something so sinister.

"Don't you ever think that some people deserve to die?" Dallon questioned, staring at Ryan intently. It seemed like he didn't really care about the answer, and was merely curious.

"No!" Ryan exclaimed, running his fingers through his dyed hair. Hearing those words from him made him upset.

"Really?" Dallon pressed, leaning forward. "Some people do heinous crimes, things you couldn't imagine. Yet, they don't deserve it?"

He had a point, and that was scary. Some people out there do bad things, some things that make them so inhumane that they shouldn't be allowed to remain in society. He thought death was too cruel for them, though. "I never said that," he answered.

"What about the ones that never get caught? Never face punishment for what they have done?" Dallon questioned even further, and it seemed like he was trying to convince Ryan of something. Ryan ignored that the statements seemed ironic.

"I'm not the one to decide what happens to them," Ryan finally answered. He thought that answer was enough, would be enough to prompt his friend to shut up. Every word he spoke only drove a deeper stake into his heart. Couldn't Dallon realize that he was condemning himself, and it drove him insane?

"But what if you were?"

Ryan didn't know what to think. What did it mean if he were justice? How would he feel deciding if people's crimes were too catastrophic for them to remain unscatched? How would he feel if he sent someone to their death, directly or indirectly?

"Dallon, tell me what happened that night," he said, and his voice was full of depth. It was full of controlled anger, because he had a feeling based on this spiel that Dallon thought he did the right thing.

"Fine," Dallon complied, then began to recall what had happened. "I was at a bar that night, drinking. Don't remember why, I think I was just sad for some reason. I was talking with the man, and he was nice. I was lonely. I invited him over to my house, and when we were there, he... tried to force himself on me."

He sounded so detached, so distant as he recalled it. But based on that last part, he could see why. "He tried to assault you?"

"Yeah," Dallon cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable. "And I was just... terrified. I got him off me, and ended up with a knife in my hands. I'm sure you know how the rest played out."

He believed him. Maybe it was foolish to do so, considering there was not any evidence, but he had to. He had to believe him because this was his friend, and he could see the distress he had faced. He remembered the guilt and the panic.

It was just strange because these days, Dallon didn't seem so guilty. "So now you can't stop thinking about it, and think he deserved it?" Ryan asked.

Dallon slowly nodded. "What good can he be for? I know it's not my place, but after what he tried to do to me..."

"Dal, if you've been feeling off about that, you could've told me," Ryan said, frowning. "We could find a way for you to deal with the trauma."

"I can't deal with it," Dallon gritted out. "You don't know what it was like, what it felt like to feel so powerless. The only moment I felt in control was when I had the knife in my hands. I never want to be powerless again."

"What are you saying?" Ryan questioned fearfully. He was shaking as he stared at his friend, who seemed to be out of it.

"I'm saying I'd do it all over again," Dallon explained, coming in closer and closer. "Don't some people deserve to die?"

And it did make sense. Ryan hated it, but it did. He wanted to protest again and say they really can't change anything, but it would be in vain. It was clear Dallon had thought of every argument he would have, and that he would win.

"What do you want from me?" Ryan asked, after a moment of silence.

"I want your help again," Dallon spoke. This time, Ryan froze. There was no way he could get himself involved with whatever he was thinking of, could he?

"Dallon, I---"

"I won't be able to do it without you," Dallon cut him off. "You're what keeps me grounded. Don't you want me to be safe?"

Ryan found himself nodding. "Of course," he muttered over and over.

"Then help me." Dallon placed his hand in front of him, staring at him pleadingly.

Ryan wanted to reject him, wanted to tell him he was crazy. He wanted to tell him he was just negatively effected by the trauma, but the incident stopped himself.

If the man had really done that to Dallon, it was just self defense, wasn't it? It couldn't be cold, full-on murder unless he did it for the fun of it, for the thrill of it. As he recalled the night of the incident and the conversation they just had, he really believed that Dallon only wanted to do this because of what happened. That fell under revenge, though. Revenge, however, wasn't always a bad thing.

If that night had went differently, and Dallon really got assaulted, Ryan's not sure what he would do. If he were to find out about it, he probably would've done something similar to what Dallon did. He might've just went over to kill that man because of what he would've done.

Maybe Dallon was right. Maybe some people do deserve death.

Ryan shook his hand, staring at him intently. "Alright, but never be cruel."

"Oh, Ryan," Dallon chuckled. "Everything can be cruel if you try hard enough."

He would later learn that his statement was true.


	3. The Art of Persuasion

Ryan was never sure if he truly believed in Dallon's idea. He just wanted to help him in some way, maybe even eventually persuade him that he wasn't right. He couldn't justify murder, because murder was murder no matter how you looked at it.

In the meantime, Dallon sought out a victim. This man in their community was often accused of sexual assault, but somehow always got his way out of it. The man was sickening, and disgusted both of them, for his crime was a personal offense due to the prior events. Dallon had a personal vendetta against people who assault others like that, so really, it wasn't a surprise this man was his next target.

"You know, it's too planned, too calculated, to be justice," Ryan pointed out. "Justice isn't like that. It comes and goes."

"Yeah, and that's why we have to take justice into our own hands," Dallon replied. It seemed like nothing he said could get through to the older man. He wanted to shake him by the shoulders and yell about how this wasn't right, but he couldn't.

"What makes you any different than a serial killer?" Ryan questioned, narrowing his eyes.

Dallon stepped closer to him, staring at him intensely. "Serial killers do it for fun, I do it because they deserve it."

That's the argument that Ryan couldn't speak against. People who commit crimes deserve some type of punishment. Ryan stayed silent, and Dallon chuckled. "I'm sure you will have a clear mind once things progress. You will see that what we are doing is humane, in it's own right."

Murder is never humane. Why can't he realize that?

\---

Ryan knew all of the details of the plan, had memorized every possible outcome they accounted for. Yet, he couldn't help but freeze up as the door to Dallon's apartment opened up. Their ringing voices were a nuisance to his ears, as he focused in on Dallon's smooth, yet thoughtful words.

To get the man here, Dallon used himself as bait. He attracted the man's attention. Ryan didn't want to know how he did that, based by how the man seemed to linger thoughtfully by Dallon's side. Now that they were all here, Ryan was going to ambush him in due time.

Nothing prepared him for this moment. The glistening knife in his hands felt cold to the touch, and his reflection in the metal made him grimace. Was this the face of an accomplice to a murderer? Was this the face of an evil human being?

"How about we get things started?" The man suggested, his words slurring. That was the obvious sign of him being drunk. Ryan grimaced, for that just made it seem worse. This person couldn't even defend himself, because at most, he just expected a hook-up.

"Wait," Dallon replied, grabbing his wrist and leading him over to the kitchen. There was something in his tone that just alluded to seduction, and Ryan really didn't want to think about what Dallon had to do to get the man over.

The two stood there for a moment, causing the man to frown. "What is it?" he asked impatiently.

Ryan braced himself, and jumped out.   
He blindly stabbed at the man, unable to really focus on the task. He couldn't believe he was actually doing it.

The man fell to the ground, heaving as blood spilled out from the stab wound on his side. It was evident to both of them that it wouldn't be enough to kill him on impact, but it was too much for Ryan to handle.

He started to hyperventilate, panicked by the thought that he might have just killed someone. Dallon took this moment to move in front of him, pulling his head up, thus blocking his vision of the man. Now, the only thing in his view was Dallon, who was eerily calm. "Ry, please calm down," he muttered gently.

"Calm down?!" Ryan blurted out, his jaw clenching. "How?"

"It's not as bad as you think. Look at him." Then, he turned Ryan's head to the side, so he was looking at the man again. The man was still bleeding heavily, and had started crying a while ago. "He's reduced to a state he deserves. Think of all the people he's hurt."

"That doesn't mean he should've been hurt too!" Ryan protested. "Besides, none of his potential victims were stabbed."

"That's irrelevant," Dallon replied. He looked at the knife in Ryan's shaking hand and placed his hand over it. "I really wanted you to finish him off, but we can do it together, if you need."

Ryan was shaking his head, repeating the word no several times. He didn't want any of this, and told him that much.

Dallon shifted uncomfortably. "Don't you love me?" he questioned weakly. Something about it seemed so off, seemed so different than he had been previously acting.

"Of course," Ryan murmured, because it was the truth. He loved Dallon with all he had, and that's why he even agreed in the first place. His love for him made him want his safety, but it didn't make him condone all of Dallon's actions.

"Then do it for me," Dallon whispered. "Please."

Ryan hesitated, but once he saw the almost broken look on his face, he knew what he had to do. He pushed Dallon away slightly, walking over to the man. The man was still alive, but barely.

This time, Ryan didn't hesitate on stabbing him. All he could think about was this man's crimes, how his victims must've felt when he hurt them. The man let out a scream of pain, and died just a few seconds later. The blood loss from the earlier wound had certainly helped.

Now there was silence. Ryan stepped away from him, looking down at his hands that were stained with blood. The stain was both metaphorical and literal.

He was an actual murderer now, had actually killed someone.

Before he could even worry more about that, he felt Dallon pull him closer into a hug. Ryan rested his head into the crook of his neck, letting out a shaky exhale. It felt normal, and was normal, until Dallon tugged on his hair to pull his head back. Then, Ryan felt a sudden pressure on his lips.

Dallon was kissing him. He didn't exactly want to question it, because he had wanted this for a while now.

Ryan pulled away, opening his eyes to look at him carefully. He could ask about what that was later. He moved away from him, and the two began to erase all evidence of the man's death. 


	4. Doubts

If Ryan were to describe the experience of murdering someone, he would say it was downright terrifying. He understands how mentally ill people have to be to condone murder, to like it, no less.

But that's not what this was. Though it was murder, it was not done for enjoyment. He killed because it was for the best. Who knows how many people he has saved from that man?

Still, the justification did not rid him of the guilt. At night, it was all he could think about. Who was he to try to play God? How foolish could he be, and how much of a idiot was he to blindly follow Dallon's every word?

Dallon seemed proud of him. He had wanted him to kill the man to get him used to killing. Now that he was used to it, Dallon realized he was having a hard time coping with it.

One particularly bad night, Dallon took the time to drive over to his house. He knocked on the door, and patiently waited for Ryan to answer.

Once he did, Dallon was immedaitely concerned. Based by the look of exhaustion on his face, such as the circles under his eyes, he knew things were serious. "Are you okay, Ry?" he asked, and very nearly hated that he cared that much.

"No," Ryan spoke quietly, moving out of the way to let him in. Dallon shut the door behind him, turning back to look at his friend, frowning.

"Have you been sleeping at all?" Dallon questioned, shocked. It was not like Ryan to have an irregular sleeping schedule. Maybe this was taking more of a toll on him than he previously thought.

"I try to," Ryan muttered. He led Dallon over to his bedroom, which was a mess. All of his bedsheets were twisted on the bed, or just falling to the ground. "But I get nightmares sometimes."

Dallon never meant to hurt him. He thought Ryan would just feel how he did, without repercussions. "Ry, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault," Ryan said, but both of them knew it was a lie. If Dallon didn't drag him into this mess, he wouldn't feel so haunted.

Dallon sighed, and began to make his bed. Ryan watched with a look of confusion his face. "What are you doing?"

"I'm staying over tonight," he replied, avoiding the question because the answer was obvious. Once the bed looked nice, he lied down on it, patting the spot next to him. Ryan eagerly lied down next to him, his heart beating just a little faster.

This seemed normal for them, and Ryan loved normal things. He could easily pretend this was a normal sleepover, and there was no funny business involving murder or sin. "Dal?"

"Hm?" Dallon hummed, looking over at him. He always gave Ryan his full attention, which is something he loved about him.

"Seriously, why are you staying?" Ryan sighed. "My problems shouldn't concern you."

"But they do," Dallon said softly, looking at his friend with sadness. "They always do. If anything ever happens to you, I worry. Knowing that I'm making your life harder makes me feel guilty."

The confirmation was shocking. Ryan knew he didn't like talking about his feelings, yet here he was, opening up. Though the statement was true, he didn't want Dallon to think he was a burden. He was the best person in Ryan's life, and apparently he wasn't reminded enough of the fact.

"Things are just diffucult to comprehend right now," Ryan said, trying to use the right words for this situation. "It's not you, it's the situation that's making me feel off."

Dallon shook his head, grinning. "It doesn't matter. I'll worry anyway, so I'm going to help you out." He scooted closer to Ryan, and their sides touched. Ryan wished they were even closer, somehow.

Ryan never made any moves. He was scared that he would go too far, because Dallon was someone you had to be careful with. He knew that if he did, he might just scare off Dallon, which was something he never wanted to do. He told himself to be content with what closeness he was given, though there were many times he wanted more.

Ryan doesn't make a move, but luckily, Dallon does. He twisted around to the side so he was facing Ryan, and leaned in to kiss him. There was something different about the situation than there was the first time Dallon kissed him.

He had been too eager to question it, but now that he was reminded of it, he knew he had to. After a moment, he pulled away. "What was that for?" he asked, hopeful.

"You know how much you mean to me, don't you?" Dallon answered, avoiding a direct answer.

"No," Ryan admitted, wishing he did. He had always thought Dallon was mysterious, and as such, he often didn't know what he was thinking. He never knew how Dallon felt.

"I love you," Dallon said, and the words felt heavenly. They stuck to him like glue, and Ryan couldn't stop himself from grinning. "And I believe people kiss the ones they love, don't they?"

There was nothing to interpret. It had just been laid out on the table. "They do," Ryan nodded, and kissed him this time. He felt less conflicted now that he knew how he felt.

After this kiss ended, Dallon told him he needed to get some sleep. "Will you still be here?" Ryan questioned.

"Of course," Dallon grinned.

Ryan lied down again and tried to sleep. He felt Dallon wrap his arms around his waist, and instantly felt more comfortable. Dallon was such a comforting presence, no matter what he has done.

Because he loves Dallon, and Dallon loves him.

Ryan fell asleep easily, and there were no nightmares about bleeding men or a silver knife in his hand. With Dallon here, he was no longer afraid.

When he wakes up, he can question Dallon a bit more about the situation. Then, he should have less doubts and fears.


	5. What is Suspicious?

Slowly, Ryan became more confident in what the two were doing. He didn't like committing murder, but he knew that it at least was for a good cause.

It was almost addicting. Often, Dallon was the one to kill, and watching him do it was fascinating. His movements were so purposeful and delibarate, and Ryan couldn't deny the joy he felt when he watched their victim finally realize what was going on. The shock on their faces was as rewarding as the kill itself.

Ryan helped primarily with getting the victim and the aftermath. This was how it naturally fell into place, what with Dallon being talented with a knife.

The disappearances were being reported on the news, but there were not many leads as to what was going on. When they watched the reports together, Dallon would squeeze his hand and smile. Ryan would smile back, glad they were evading capture.

Ryan doesn't know what he would do if they were caught. Prison was a terrifying place, and he didn't really know how he would cope there. Once, while they were watching the reports, Ryan expressed his fears.

"What if they catch us?" he asked Dallon, who turned to acknowledge him.

"They won't," Dallon said confidently. It was like he didn't even bother to account for the possibility. For once, Ryan was angry.

"How could you drag me into this if you haven't even thought that far ahead?" he barked. His hands began to shake, because more importantly, he was scared. He didn't know what would happen if they got caught.

Dallon grabbed his shaking hands, squeezing them gently. "With you on my side, I have been blinded. It hasn't concerned me, but we can work something out if it'll make you feel better."

Ryan let out a breath of relief. "Yeah, that works."

The two thought of what they could do. If they were to get caught, it would be game over. But what happens after? Would they just bide their time in a prison cell, waiting for their death?

One would obviously say "well, don't get caught", but both men knew that the likelihood of never being caught was extremely low. That's why they needed a plan.

Dallon first had an idea. "Isolation," he said. "The less we interact with others, the less likely anyone would notice us."

"And all the more suspicious," Ryan argued. "Two loners sound like perfect suspects, no?"

Dallon sighed, realizing he was right. The two were silent as they continued thinking. "I think we have to act normal," Ryan said. "A functioning member of society is less suspicious."

"You're right... And it's probably better to be seperate."

"What?" Ryan nearly shouted. His fists clenched as he stared at the taller man. Maybe he had been wrong about him, and maybe this was some complex way of getting rid of Ryan. When he helped dispose that first body, and later learned what was going on, Ryan had fully expected for them to do this together. Call it unrealistic, and maybe even mad, but murdering people together was a bonding experience.

Besides, Dallon loves him. Why would he want seperation?

"I just think it would be safer," Dallon quickly explained himself. His hands began to speak alongside his words. It was a small indication to just who he is, what will never change about him. "Like, maybe they might only suspect one killer... If they suspect two, then if one of us becomes suspicious, the other one does too. Do you get what I mean?"

"Yeah," Ryan said, grinning.

"Why are you smiling?"

"Because you care so much, and you're so _human_."

\---

Seperation was the method both agreed to. Honestly, Ryan couldn't sway him away from his belief that it would be the best decision for them. Obviously they still met to commit the crimes, but they were no longer entangled in each other's lives.

To friends, they would say they had a falling out. To family members, who knew what lies sound coming from their mouths, they would say that their friendship was distant. Either way, nobody would ever think much about the two of them, at least not together.

Being apart made things difficult. Ryan missed Dallon dearly, and meeting up with him maybe every other week wasn't cutting it. Dallon was always concerned with the killing, never paid much attention to his silent suffering.

There was something wrong there, but Ryan didn't want to admit it. He wanted everything to be fine, but most importantly, he wanted Dallon's love. He knew if he were to put up a fight about it, Dallon could easily leave. It wouldn't be hard for him to find someone else, with how charming and brilliant he is. The fear of losing him and being replaced kept him silent about how he felt.

After another night of killing, Ryan was silent as he helped clean the area around them. Dallon had lured this victim to his apartment, and the victim was a middle-aged woman. She was abusive to her old partners, one of them being someone Dallon used to know.

Ryan stared at her corpse, wondering why none of this fazed him anymore. He leaned down and shut her eyelids, so he wouldn't have to see that haunting look in her eyes. Most victim's often got that look, that look of realization, shock, and pain.

"Connections are dangerous," Ryan spoke up. Dallon's head turned to him, his blue eyes narrowing.

"What do you mean?" he asked, placing the cleaned knife down on the counter.

"This seperation is meant to protect us, yet you go after someone who could be traced back to you." The rage in Ryan's voice was uncontrollable, as he looked at Dallon with betrayal.

"I doubt anyone would made that connection, Ryan," he replied, rolling his eyes. "You need to chill out. It's not that serious."

"Not that serious?" Ryan stomped away from him, walking to the door. He couldn't believe Dallon was being so selfish, so blind to the fact that he was finally wrong. "If you really think that way, I'll just go. You don't understand my sacrifices, in order to do this _for_ you."

"With you," Dallon corrected. "You do this with me. You are as involved as I am."

He was right, and it made Ryan furious. But he was also wrong. If it hadn't been for Dallon, he would never have reconsidered his position about justice, never would've killed with his own hands, or watched idly as it happened. "You don't deserve me," he said, before walking out of his apartment.

And Ryan didn't regret it, though he felt loss sting at him. 


	6. Commitment

Ryan doesn't know what he wants. It's been a month since he's last seen Dallon. It's been a month since he's seen murder and helped commit it. It's been a month since he felt normal.

It may not be normal to anyone else, but he had become accustomed to their routine of insanity. He was used to the horrific scenes, and frankly, he missed it as much as he missed Dallon.

It doesn't really surprise him when he decided that he was going to see Dallon again. He had assumed the man was giving him the silent treatment, and he figured that if he gave it up first, Dallon would let go of his grudge.

In the evening, when he knew he wouldn't be busy, he went over to Dallon's apartment. He knocked on the door, and waited with bated breath.

The taller man opened the door, and as soon as he saw Ryan, he said, "Back so soon?"

Ryan swallowed the lump in his throat. "I just can't stay away," he confessed nervously.

"It seems so," Dallon replied, moving out of the way and gesturing for his friend to enter. It almost felt like the beginning of their friendship, when they were still awkward and unsure of their boundaries. Just a month ago, he would've just stormed into Dallon's apartment, not wait to be let in. But things are different now, he supposed.

Dallon closed the door behind him, and then faced Ryan. Ryan couldn't help but wonder what's gone on in the past month. Has he missed him as much as Ryan missed him? Has he missed the comfort Ryan gives him? Or, did he not care at all? His friend was unreadable, and seemed to have a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Are you here to tell me how terrible I am?" Dallon questioned, causing him to flinch.

"I just want the best for you," Ryan replied. "I'm sorry I lost my temper that night, but I just can't stop worrying..."

Dallon smiled, his eyes crinkling. "I know, I know," he said. "Listen, I want to be honest with you. I have been lost without you."

Ryan took a moment to consider his words. Perhaps he really did feel the loss. Perhaps he wasn't as cold and distant as he had initially thought. He wanted to be more careful from now on, because as it turns out, Dallon is his weakness. Half the time, he can't even think correctly around him.

"I have too," Ryan answered. "I just want to be with you again."

And then there was a certain change to Dallon's expression. He was still smiling, but it lost it's warmth. "There's the tough part."

Ryan only watched as Dallon leaned in, his heart thumping in his chest. "Why?"

"We've lost trust," Dallon stated, "and we must fix that, if you really want to be with me." His lips were ghosting over Ryan's, and if he weren't such a coward, he would close the distance himself. But, like before, he doesn't want to do anything that would make him retreat from him.

"I do," Ryan said, transfixed. "How do we fix everything?"

Dallon motioned for his arm, and Ryan held it out for him. He pulled up the left sleeve of his shirt, revealing his pale wrists. He started to trace the inside of his wrist, and Ryan tried to follow it, for it seemed like he was tracing letters. "Do you know what I mean?" Dallon asked, once he finished, his pointer finger resting on his wrist.

Dallon had traced the letters D and W onto his wrist. He didn't lie to himself and say he didn't understand. He knew what he was asking of him. "Yes," he replied softly.

"Your initial's would be on mine as well," Dallon added, swiftly letting go of his arm. He seemed to be rushing to explain himself. "I just think it would be a good reminder and a good way to show commitment."

Unbeknownst to Dallon, Ryan was already sold on the idea. He didn't know the effect he had on Ryan, and only really knew Ryan loved him. He doesn't know that Ryan practically bends to his will. (And if he did, what would that mean? Would he take advantage of the fact?)

"I can think of another commitment," Ryan said, because he really couldn't help himself. Before Dallon could ask what he meant, he pulled the back of Dallon's head closer so that their lips would meet. It took a moment for the other man to reciprocate, probably due to his own shock.

His arms wrapped around Ryan's waist, and Ryan was in bliss. This was something he had missed over the time of their separation. Dallon pulled away from the kiss first, and when Ryan opened his eyes, Dallon was kissing his cheek.

"I didn't think you'd want me back that way, after everything," Dallon admitted, smiling to himself. There was a faint blush appearing on his cheeks, which was a shock of it's own. He normally wasn't this affectionate, but Ryan assumed that the break influenced that.

"Of course I would," Ryan muttered quietly. "I'd want you, no matter what you're like. Even in a different universe, I would be so fascinated by you that I simply couldn't resist. I'm blinded by love, but you're always alert..."

Dallon shook his head, grinning. "You really know a way with words." Then, this time, he pulled Ryan in for a kiss.   
Ryan felt so happy by this, but chose to ignore the implications and just focus on the kiss itself.

When the two pulled away, they knew that they were finally back together. "We'll go to the parlor tomorrow," Dallon said, panting. "Is that good with you?"

Ryan only smiled and said, "Everything's good with me." For a moment, he imagined what the letters would look like once they were on his wrist. Though it was unusual, he found that he liked the idea of being claimed like that. He also took a secret thrill from the fact that his initial's would be on Dallon's as well.

So caught up with their bliss, Ryan slept in his bed with him, the two holding onto each other comfortingly through the night.


End file.
